


Delicate

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2665553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short little scene taking place right after "Diary of a Mad Indian Woman".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicate

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had some pretty bad writer's block lately, even though I have lots of ideas. So, I decided to just write something and this is what came out of it. Just a little exercise to get back into a flow.

* * *

 

 

 

 _We might kiss when we are alone_  
When nobody's watching  
We might take it home  
We might make out when nobody's there  
It's not that we're scared  
It's just that it's delicate

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_“Scooch over, you’re on my side.”_

 

She rolls onto her back, just enough to get a good look at him, and frowns deeply at. “No way, this is my bed! Get in the bitch car, Castellano.” She slaps her hand down on the empty side of the bed and smirks.

 

He groans in complaint but he’s already toeing off his shoes and pulling his shirt from his pants. “The bitch seat…”

 

“Mmhmm. You’re the duck now.”

 

“The duck?”

 

“Yeah, from your movie—that stupid movie you love so much.”

 

“What—Top Gun? Goose, you mean.”

 

“Duck, goose, chicken, whatever.” She yawns. “Same thing.”

 

By the time he’s gotten down to his boxers, Mindy’s rolled over and landed in the middle of the bed, hugging what’s supposed to be Danny’s pillow.

 

“Get out of those scrubs, Min. You’re falling asleep.”

 

“Mmm I’m tired and they’re comfy.” She mumbles into the pillow.

 

“There’s no way you’re comfortable in those, come on.” He reaches over and pulls her big toe, smiling when she groans and kicks him away.

 

“Stop it, Danny, I’m tired!”

 

“I’m not letting you sleep in that, they’re all scratchy and I can’t spoon you in those, I can’t.”

 

“Not changing, sorry.”

 

She doesn’t even budge from where she’s cuddling the pillow as he turns around and heads for her closet.

 

He almost regrets it the moment he flicks the light on. There is clothing everywhere, on the floor, sticking out of hangers. “Oh, my god, it’s like Saks 5th Avenue threw up in here.” Somewhere underneath an especially big pile of clothes, he spots the dresser where hopes her pajamas are. He finds a pair of bright blue cotton shorts and an old well-worn shirt of his he had been looking for. “Look at that,” he says when he holds it up and smiles.

 

He thinks about her face when he almost walked out of her apartment, the way she didn’t even seem surprised. Something about that really tugs at him. Near regret, he could call it. Still, that bothersome knot of anxiety in his stomach that makes him sweat is there, and he is ashamed of it. Ashamed that after all he put Mindy through, doubt is still there. This fear. It makes him sick to his stomach, this fear.

 

It infuriates and confuses him. How is it that he can love someone so much, so implicitly and still fear everything he promised her, and himself for that matter?

 

The cotton is soft in his hands and his head is still reeling until he stops at the foot of her bed, and Mindy is cozied up, comfortable and safe, just letting him move around her apartment and her life with so much trust and ease.

 

He can allow the guilt and the remorse eat him up until he’s running out the door again, but the gentle sound of her breathing and the ache in his chest he feels, that dire need to be resting right beside her overrides it.

 

She doesn’t stir when he buries his head in her shoulder and nudges her. “Come on, let me get you out of this.”

 

She groans and for a moment furrows deeper into the pillow, but after he nuzzles her neck a little more forcefully and growls playfully against her ear, she laughs and finds enough energy to turn over before he quickly sits astride her before she dozes off again and pulls her up to sit.

 

She yawns, and manages to shoot another glare at him before he pulls her scrub top over her head and tosses it aside.

 

Her skin is smooth and warm, and he can’t help himself from stealing a few quick pecks along her chest once he’s rid of her bra. “Up again.” He says, nudging her arms and smirking when she grumbles a string of curses he can’t quite make out from inside the shirt when he carefully gets her into it.

 

She flops back unceremoniously, smiling up at him with a look he isn’t sure he’s reading correctly.

 

“What?” He’s smoothing the shirt over her stomach, reaching underneath to get it down from where it’s bunched up at her back.

 

“I like you dressing me.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mmhmm. It’s like I’m Marie Antoinette and you’re my hot maid and we have this unspoken connection and palpable sexual tension.”

 

“Okay.”  He moves down her body, pulling at the drawstrings of her scrubs before she lifts her hips for him to pull them off. “We should have never rented that movie.”

 

“Danny, the only way I’ll watch a French movie with you is if there is lesbian subtext in it, renting that movie was the best decision of our relationship.”

 

“I think you’ve been hanging out with Jean too much. Shorts or no shorts?”

 

She scrunches her nose at him and shakes her head.

 

“All right,” He climbs off the bed, makes sure to fold all of her clothes and by the time he turns back towards the bed, Mindy’s pulled the comforter back and left the left side free for him. “You sure?”

 

“Mmhmm,” She nods, then holds both arms out to him. “Human blanket first, please.”

 

“Okay.” He climbs into bed beside her, pulls the comforter up enough for him to crawl back until he’s draped over her, holding as much of his weight on his elbows. He’s cradled perfectly between her legs when she wraps them around him and sighs contentedly.

 

She claims his weight squeezes the exhaustion out of her. She calls it the human blanket and he finds it ridiculous, but he can’t deny that he enjoys her draped over him just the same, so he gets it.

 

She smells like body wash and that lotion of hers that smells like honeysuckle. After a long moment of breathing her in, he draws back to look at her, “You smell nice.”

 

“I squeezed in a shower, just don’t smell my hair.”

 

He leans forward and takes in a deep exaggerated breath.

 

She laughs and smacks his shoulder, wiggling under him. “Danny!”

 

“Smells pretty good,” He says, then kisses her cheek, her nose and finally her lips. “Smells like hard work.”

 

“Oh, my god, shut up.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“Sorry I was being a grump earlier.”

 

She shrugs her shoulders and smiles tiredly. “Eh, it’s what old men do.”

 

He chuckles, languidly kisses her for a while, eventually turning them over so she’s resting on top of him and eventually fallen asleep with her head on his chest.

 

It will come again, that cowardly jerk knee reaction to run, but he’ll make sure to use up every single roadblock in the meantime.

 

 


End file.
